


Frodo Unspoken

by LeastExpected_Archivist



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, no happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-02-04
Updated: 2002-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:00:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25889233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeastExpected_Archivist/pseuds/LeastExpected_Archivist
Summary: by AmandaThese *might* have been Frodo's thoughts after he invited Sam and Rose to live with him at Bag End after their marriage.
Relationships: Frodo Baggins/Sam Gamgee
Kudos: 3
Collections: Least Expected





	Frodo Unspoken

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Amy Fortuna, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Least Expected](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Least_Expected), which has been offline since 2002. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on the [Least Expected collection profile](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/leastexpected/profile).
> 
> Disclaimer: All characters and locations featured in this fiction are the creation of J.R.R. Tolkien and are the property of his estate. I make no money from this.  
> Story Notes: Companion to "Sam Unspoken!

It is late afternoon at Bag End and I am sitting at my desk in the study. My eyes are focussed, but unseeing, upon an unidentified object in the middle distance. The Red Book lies in front of me but I am too weary to continue with my task. My hand aches with the labour of trying to hold my pen. The loss of my finger is never greater than when I am writing.

I try to calm myself and rid myself of the sick, untidy thoughts and feelings which are reeling through my head at dizzying speed.

Yesterday.

It had happened yesterday. A day when what little life I have left in me was shattered forever.

Sam is getting married. Sam. My Sam. My Sam is getting married.

 _My_ Sam. What right do I have to call him that? He was never _my_ Sam; it just pleased me to think of him that way. Soon he'll be someone else's Sam. He'll be Rose's Sam. Rose's husband.

Pain.

I have never known pain like it. I would rather face all of the pain I suffered on my journey again than suffer the pain which grows in my heart. This is the sort of pain which cannot be healed by herbs or plants or the hands of a healer. Even the skilled hands of King Elessar would be of no use to me now. I hurt. Every fibre of my being throbs with the knowledge that the only person I've ever loved will soon be torn away from me forever.

Love.

What do I know of love? Who has ever truly loved me? Bilbo was fond of me, yes, but I can't see that he ever really loved me. He went off and left me without even saying goodbye. How long ago that all seems now. How different would my life have been if my parents had lived? Would I have lived at Brandybuck Hall and never met Sam? I wouldn't have been adopted by Bilbo and I would never have become the Ringbearer.

I've got beyond the stage of asking "why me?" I no longer question the role I was called upon to play in my life. It happened so I have to accept it. The Ring was destroyed. Our land was saved. Joy all round for everyone except me. No-one to come home to, no-one to welcome me back, no-one to take me in their arms and tell me they're glad to see me again.

Sam.

I saw him again this morning. Briefly. He's busy now, of course, has a job of work to do. I sit and stare when I'm not writing but my thoughts always drift back to the same thing. Sam. Always, always Sam.

I love him. I fully admit that I love him. I don't know when I started to love him but I do know that there is no point in me trying to deny my feelings any more. Deny them to whom? Who is there to care? Except Sam himself but he's busy. He has things to do. I can't interfere.

I don't want to live here with him and his wife. I dread the day when he brings her home here. She will be happy, smiling, blushing, safe in the arms of Sam. My Sam. My Sam. Yes, he will still be my Sam until he marries. But then? I shudder. I cannot bear it, it will tear me apart.

But I must be brave, I must be strong. Strong like I was yesterday when Sam told me Rose was expecting to marry him. Strong like I was when I told him he could bring her back here to live. Somehow I have to continue to be brave although it will take every ounce of my strength, what little strength I have left.

My health is failing fast. In a way that is a comfort, it makes Sam's marriage easier to bear. How could I possibly let him devote his life to an ageing cripple like me? Cripple, yes, that is what I am, that is what I have become for I no longer feel like a complete person. So much has been taken from me.

And now Sam is going.

I have to find a way to make it easy for him. I want him to have a home and when I've gone it will make it easier if he is already living here. That is the very least he deserves, he has given me so much. I cannot live without him yet I know that I must. So near yet so far.

He did not see the tear in my eye as I turned away from him yesterday. Sam, dear Sam, how it tore my heart out to see him standing there, so much concern in his eyes, concern for me. So much devotion, so much love. Love. Yes, I saw it there, I saw it in his eyes. It is not the first time I have seen love in his eyes. He cares for me, cares for me like no-one has ever done. He gives me strength but this time my strength is fading.

I could so easily have given in to my feelings. How easy it would have been to falter, to let him put his arms around me, to hold me like I've never been held before. How beautiful it would have been. To feel Sam pull me into his arms and wrap them around me, to hear him whisper sweet words in my ear and to stroke my hair. So much pain, so much yearning for what I can never have. Evil, evil pain, oh how I wish I could cut out my heart and tear this pain far, far away from me.

It hurts me more than I ever thought possible. The pain is always there, it never really goes. And it gets worse as time goes on. Sam is everywhere, he's all around me, he's inside me, he lives in my heart. I love him more than any words created can ever say. He is life, he is love, he is my very will to survive.

And survive I must for a while longer. I must put my affairs in order. I must finish my writing. And I must make sure Sam has everything because I want him to be happy. He has given me the gift of realising that I am capable of love because without him I would never have known that. I have never loved anyone else because I couldn't. I couldn't do the sort of things I dreamed of doing with Sam with anyone else, it would be horrible. No-one can touch me except Sam and Sam is promised to another.

He will go to his marriage bed and Rose will lay in his arms. I wonder how it would feel to lay in his arms. But of course, I have some idea. We slept together all the time on our journey. Not in the way that I would like, of course, but at least we were close. Near and far all at the same time. He was always concerned for me, dearest Sam, how would I have managed without you?

Even in the filth and stench of that wretched black tower there was a moment's beauty for me because of Sam. That morning when I woke up with my head in his lap was for me the most beautiful moment of my life. Just for that brief moment I forgot where I was, forgot I was in the land of shadow and forgot that I had a task to fulfil. Oh, Sam, I was in your arms then, laying in your arms and I opened my eyes to the sight of you looking at me and you had love in your eyes. Protective love, cherishing love, love like you wanted to hold me there forever. It was beautiful, so beautiful to feel your hand on my forehead, like you'd been gently stroking my hair before you woke me up. Gollum was there but it didn't matter because you were there and I loved you. I loved you and you loved me and for that precious moment that was all that mattered. I loved it; it was a flicker of that could have been, what might have been.

But now it can never be. You must get married, dearest Sam, even though it will tear me apart. You must have your wife and then your children, for they will surely come. And I will have the knowledge that I spared you the misery of watching me shrivel up and die. That will have to be my comfort. Somehow I have to find the strength to believe that that is all I need.

Sam's happiness comes first, he must always come first now, of that I am sure. I no longer matter, I have served my purpose. I am all but spent and my time in this world is limited.

Oh, Sam, I try to be strong but I know that this will not be the end of my dreams. I will still think of you, I will think of us. I will think of us being together and sharing a life as I once, long ago and far away, dreamed. Walking in the sun together, laying on the soft grass together. We are as one, Sam dearest, whoever you marry. She cannot love you like I do, it would be impossible. You know it and I know it. We both know it yet we do not speak of it.

Being in the same room as you hurts me now. It hurts so much, so much, being so near yet so far from you. The invisible barrier which separates us and keeps us from each other, the barrier of words, of unspoken truths. I hurt when I see you standing there, so full of vigour and strength, so much to live for. How can I bear it? Your arms are so strong, your hair is so thick and your eyes ..... your eyes are the thing I love best about you because they speak of your love for me. The love I have yearned for and dreamed of.

Dreams.

Dreams are all I have left now and even they will amount to nothing. I have fulfilled my destiny but you, Sam, have yet to fulfil yours. You will never hold me in the way I dream of being held or touch me in the way I would love to be touched.

Touch.

I know you looked after me in Rivendell. You undressed me and bathed me. You have never spoken of this yet I know it was you, I know you would never have allowed anyone else to touch me. I tremble. I feel weak and faint. I imagine your strong, strong hands touching me all over, bathing me gently and carefully, never hurting me. So gentle, so much tenderness all for me. These thoughts always cause my body to stir. But it is the irony which cripples me the most; the knowledge that I was there, naked beneath your hands, yet lacking the consciousness to appreciate or enjoy the experience. Sometimes I weaken and close my eyes and allow my imagination to take me to places where I should not allow it to venture.

I do not believe I can think any more at present. I am weary with thought and with toil but most of all I am wearied by the knowledge that what I most yearn for will never be mine, at least not in this life.

Not in this life.

  * E N D -




End file.
